Graveyard Flowers
by carabc03
Summary: Arthur has invested a lot of time and work into his garden. So when he notices someone is stealing his roses, he's not happy to say the least. He vows to catch the evil flower thief, and upon doing so, demands to meet the girl his roses are being stolen for. Merlin, the culprit, isn't quite sure how to explain that the beautiful roses have all been taken to a gravestone.


Arthur is a proud man, perhaps a bit too proud. Or, according to Morgana, a lot too proud. Which is entirely besides the point. The point is, Arthur is a _Pendragon._ And he will not stand for someone stealing his flowers - especially when the flowers in question are his red roses. They're the highlight of his garden, something he has invested quite a lot of time and dedication towards after inheriting the area from his father. But someone has been taking the roses. It isn't a regular thing, maybe once every few weeks. Arthur might not have even noticed if the person didn't take so many on the rare occurrences. But they do - usually around ten roses. Ten! Arthur absolutely refuses to tolerate it. He's sure he would have caught them much sooner if not for the irregularity of the visits, but the time between the thefts only allows him more time to plot and seethe to Morgana about what he'll do upon catching the criminal.

"He's probably a lazy, ugly, idiotic man," Arthur rants, "who doesn't want to put the time and care into growing them himself."

Morgana makes a vague noise of agreement from the couch where she's lying, even though it's perfectly clear to Arthur she isn't listening. This does not dissuade him in the slightest.

"He probably needs them to impress some girl!" Arthur declares.

"Sure," his sister mumbles.

"Morgana, _listen_ to me, this is a serious matter!"

"Oh, yes, very," she agrees solemnly. "It's not just you being ridiculous over a couple of weeds."

" _Weeds!_ " Arthur fumes. "That's it. When I find the twat responsible for this, I'm going to go with him to meet whatever girl he's bringing them to."

"Arthur, you're being absolutely ridiculous," Morgana informs him. "And besides, what do you expect to accomplish by coming along?"

He shrugs. "I'll determine if the girl is pretty enough to warrant flower thievery."

"You're such an idiot. Arthur, whoever it is might not even _know_ they're stealing. Your property is some of the largest in London, he might have just seen the edge of your entirely-too-big garden from the woods you know very well obscure your house from view and taken them," she reasons.

Arthur scowls. "Oh, sure, and he thinks that Stanhopea orchids just grow naturally in the wild? Do you _know_ how much maintenance those require?"

"Not unlike yourself," she mutters, but her enraged brother doesn't hear. "Arthur, I wouldn't even know what a Stanhopea _is_ if you didn't brag about your garden all the time, what makes you think the so called thief does? Just calm down and-"

Their argument is interrupted by the sound of a dog barking. Arthur rushes out the door before Morgana can question it.

The blonde runs to the garden, hoping that the watchdog he had borrowed is barking to signal an intruder, and maybe he can finally catch the evil man who has been terrorizing his garden for the past few months. What he finds is a sheepish, skinny boy with raven hair and alarmingly blue eyes. He looks to be a few years younger than Arthur; probably in his late teens or early twenties. He's kneeling on the ground by the roses.

"So you're the thief," Arthur says by way of greeting. He offers his hand to the boy, whose beautiful eyes widen in surprise before he hesitantly takes it and stands.

Once he's up, he frowns at Arthur's words. "What are you talking about?" His voice sounds genuinely confused, and it occurs to Arthur for the first time that Morgana may have had the right idea about the criminal having no idea of his offense.

"You're the one who has been stealing the roses," Arthur clarifies, raising an eyebrow.

The boy furrows his eyebrows in a way that is not adorable in the slightest and definitely doesn't make his lips pout in an endearing way before understanding suddenly crosses his face, followed by a regretful look. "I wasn't stealing! Er, actually, I guess I was. I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone would mind. It's just, a man named Uther lives here, and his gardener said he really didn't care about his flowers at all and that I could take the ones by the edges of the garden and he wouldn't even notice."

Arthur glares. "That was my father who you were taking advantage of. He moved away and left the house to me, and I can assure you I _do_ care about my flowers. Especially the Stanhopea orchids," he can't help adding because damn it, those things are hard work.

The boy holds his hands up in surrender, his eyes becoming round and earnest. "I swear I had no idea," he says. "I never would have taken them if I had known."

Arthur isn't quite as angry anymore as he looks at the scrawny boy's anxious face, but he is in no way placated. Even if the boy didn't know what he was doing, he still stole from not only Arthur, but also his father. "Fine. But that doesn't mean I'm letting you off the hook so easily."

"I can- well, actually I can't pay for them, but I can provide labor! I could plant more to make up for the ones I took and tend to your garden," the boy offers.

"Why can't you pay for them?" Arthur scoffs. Not only has this boy admitted to stealing, but he's not even offering compensation!

The boy looks annoyed for the first time. "I can't afford to, you prat," he mutters, his face turning red as he looks down. "Why do you think the gardener allowed me to take them for free?"

Arthur at least has the good grace to be embarrassed, but his righteous anger is restored when he realizes exactly what the boy has said. "Did you just call me a prat?"

The boy considers. "I think I probably did."

Arthur tries not to laugh but fails, and he thinks that seeing the way the boy's eyes light up when he smiles is worth the insult. He holds out his hand. "I'm Arthur, by the way."

The boy shakes it. "Merlin. And I wasn't kidding about working for you to make up for it."

"That won't be necessary, _Mer_ lin. I just want one thing, and it won't take long."

Merlin looks nervous for a second, and Arthur blushes as he realizes how his words could have been taken.

"Nothing bad," he offers quickly. "I just want to come along on your date."

Merlin's mouth falls open slightly, and Arthur can't stop his gaze from darting down towards the pink lips, if only for a second. "That's- I'm not-"

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on. Do you really expect me to believe that you're stealing these roses periodically just for the hell of it? Look, I'm not mad anymore, and you don't owe me anything at all after I meet her."

Merlin looks away. "No, I don't really fancy it," he says.

Arthur snorts. "You don't have a choice, Merlin. I just want to meet her for a bit, and then I'll leave. I won't even tell her why I'm there, you can just say we're friends."

"Why do you want to meet her, anyway?" Merlin asks quietly.

"I want to see for myself if she's deserving of these flowers."

Merlin's head shoots up at the words, and Arthur thinks he sees something like anger on his pale face. "She is."

"Well, then what are we waiting for?"

Merlin looks like he wants to say something, but can't find the words. Eventually he closes his mouth and shrugs. "Follow me, then, I guess." He begins to walk, and after a few minutes, Arthur frowns.

"Are we not driving?"

"It's not far," Merlin responds shortly, not looking back at his companion.

They continue the journey in silence, but Arthur can't help noticing the way Merlin's lean muscles move under his clothing. He's gorgeous, that's undeniable. _Shame he's taken,_ Arthur thinks wistfully.

The blonde is pulled out of his thoughts by Merlin's voice. "Well, here we are."

Arthur looks around, stopping short when he realizes exactly where 'here' is. "But we're-"

"-In a graveyard," Merlin finishes. "I know."

Arthur feels a sinking in his gut as he realizes that maybe he shouldn't have forced the boy to bring him. "Merlin, I'm sorry."

Merlin shrugs. "You didn't know." Then he turns to face the other man, offering a crooked smile. "Do you still want to meet her?"

"I would be honored," Arthur tells him gently.

Merlin leads him to a gravestone in the corner of the cemetery. The headstone reads 'Freya - beloved daughter, sister, and friend. Taken too soon.' Arthur winces as he reads the dates. _God, she was only 17._

"She was the first person besides my mum I ever really loved," Merlin begins softly, avoiding Arthur's probing gaze. "She was sweet and kind and beautiful and far too giving for her own good. She loved strawberries and red roses. Well, mostly strawberries, but one time I tried to paint something for her on our first anniversary. She really liked to paint, which is why I did it. I had no idea how to, I just wanted to make her happy. It was meant to be her holding a basket of strawberries, but I've never been great at art so it looked more like a bouquet of roses. She told me she loved it. Ever since then, whenever she was feeling down and strawberries weren't in season, I would get her a red rose." Merlin smiles sadly down at the stone. "I bring her some when I miss her most."

"I'm so sorry," Arthur says softly.

Merlin sniffles, and that's about all Arthur can take. He pulls Merlin into a tight hug, and once the smaller man gets over the surprise, he clings to Arthur, breaking into quiet sobs. Arthur soothes him gently. When the worst seems to be over, he whispers softly, "if it helps, you're free to take as many of my flowers as you want." _Even the Stanhopeas,_ he thinks.

Merlin buries his face deeper into Arthur's shoulder. "Thank you."

The two eventually part, and Arthur frowns in concern as he looks at the sky. "It's getting dark, we should head back."

Merlin glances around. "Dammit, I didn't mean to stay out this late!"

Arthur frowns. "Something wrong?"

"No, I just don't like walking alone in the dark," Merlin admits sheepishly. "I'm a bit of a wimp that way, but -"

Arthur finally grasps what Merlin means. "Wait, you were planning to _walk_ home?"

"Well, that's how we got here, isn't it?"

Arthur falters. "I mean, yes, but I assumed you had a car near my house that you had taken there."

"Nope," Merlin shrugs.

"How far from my house do you live, exactly?"

Merlin wrinkles his nose, deep in thought, and Arthur is startled by how adorable the other man looks when in concentration. "About two miles, I think? I don't know, I've never calculated it exactly, but I know that I'm three miles from the cemetery, which your house is probably a mile or so away from. That's how I found the garden in the first place."

Arthur stares at the idiot in front of him for a long moment, closing his eyes. "And you believed I was going to let you just walk three miles in the dark?"

"Well, sort of." At Arthur's look of disbelief, Merlin shrugs defensively. "I mean, you don't owe me anything! In fact, I owe you! Evil flower thief, remember?"

" _Mer_ lin, even if your _were_ in any way indebted to me, I still wouldn't have you wondering the streets late at night."

"How was I supposed to know that?" Merlin grumbled.

Arthur stares at him incredulously. "Common sense?"

Merlin grins. "I don't know what gave you the impression that I possessed even the smallest shred of that, but-"

"Yeah, alright, shut up," Arthur cuts him off with a laugh. "Here, I'll call my sister to pick us up."

"That's really not-" Merlin begins, but is interrupted yet again by Arthur starting the call and completely ignoring him. "-necessary." he finishes.

Arthur hangs up the phone a moment later with a look of triumph.

"You're really a bit of a prat, you know that?" Merlin says, smiling.

Arthur returns the smile. "Yes, I seem to remember a certain idiot telling me so earlier."

Merlin nods thoughtfully. "Can't have been that much of an idiot if he picked up on your prattish ways, can he? Although I suppose you don't need to be all that perceptive for that."

"Oh, shut up," Arthur grins, playfully whacking Merlin's shoulder. And if it lingers there for just a second too long, well, that's really nobody's business but Arthur's.

Merlin grins at the blonde fondly just as Morgana's car pulls up. She looks through the window, arching her perfect eyebrow at the way the two men are standing closer than strictly necessary.

"That's her," Arthur tells Merlin. He nods as the two of them head over to get in. Once safely seated, Merlin smiles at Arthur's sister. "Hi, I'm Merlin."

"Are you the one who has been terrorizing Arthur's garden?" She asks bluntly, although not unkindly.

Merlin flushes. "Well, I mean- That- I suppose-"

"Yes," Arthur puts in helpfully.

At this, her face breaks into a huge smile. "Pleasure to meet you!"

Merlin barks out a surprised laugh.

"I'm Morgana, by the way," she adds.

Merlin beams. "Well, it's nice to meet you too, Morgana."

The car soon pulls up at Arthur's house. Merlin stares at it, mouth agape. He's never really seen it up close since he's only ever been in the gardens. He can't imagine living in a house so huge. Morgana smiles at his shock.

"I know. Makes you wonder if he's not overcompensating just a bit-"

Arthur clamps a hand firmly over her mouth, flushing scarlet.

Merlin laughs, Morgana's teasing causing him to feel slightly more comfortable in the presence of such grandeur.

"I hate you," Arthur tells his sister, his hand still over her mouth. Even with her lips covered, her evil grin is apparent.

Merlin coughs awkwardly. "I should get going..."

"You can stay here for the night," Arthur offers immediately.

Merlin's eyes widen. "Arthur, I couldn't-"

"It's no problem," Morgana puts in kindly after prying Arthur's hand off her face.

Merlin doesn't know what to say. What if he breaks something? Or spills something? In a place like this, he'd probably have to sell his house to replace it. "I don't know."

Arthur shrugs, trying to look impassive. "It's up to you, of course. But it's no problem for you to stay, if that's what you're worried about."

Merlin blushes, looking down. Is he that transparent? "If you're sure it's no trouble," he decides finally.

"None at all!" Morgana chirps eagerly. "Let's get you both inside."

"Does she live here?" Merlin asks Arthur as they follow the eager woman.

"She seems to think she does," Arthur snorts, "but no. I don't mind her hanging around, though. At least, not most of the time." Morgana silently enters her room, leaving the two alone.

Merlin smiles. "It's nice that you two are close."

Arthur is surprised at the longing on Merlin's face. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nah," Merlin shrugs. "My mum couldn't exactly afford to care for two children. I mean, she could barely handle me!" He laughs. "Always wanted one, though."

Arthur nods understandingly. "Morgana seems to like you. She might not be a sister, but I think you guys will be pretty close one day." Arthur breaks off, realizing the implications of his statement. "I mean, not that I expect you to stick around. Of course, you can. But you don't have to. It's up to you. I'm not trying to say-"

"Arthur!" Merlin eventually cuts him off. The blonde quickly slams his mouth firmly shut as he waits for a response. Merlin smiles at him affectionately. "I would love to stick around."

Arthur smiles back, relief evident in his features. "That's good. I'm growing somewhat fond of you."

Merlin beams at this, and suddenly Arthur finds himself leaning forward, wanting to kiss that stupidly adorable grin off Merlin's face, and finds himself screeching to a halt as he comes to his senses and realizes what he was about to do. _You just met this man!_ His thoughts hiss angrily. _And at his girlfriend's grave! His girlfriend, as in, not male, as in, not you. Never you._

Merlin's smile is slowly leaving his lips, and he realizes neither of them have moved since he started to lean in.

Arthur turns away, trying not to notice the hurt on the other man's face. "Excuse me. I'm going to head to bed. You can sleep in the guest bedroom, two doors down on your left."

With that, he takes off. Only once he's a safe distance away does he look back to find Merlin still standing exactly where he'd left him, a look of shock on his face. Arthur grimaces. _He's probably disgusted,_ he tells himself. _What were you thinking?_

"Wait," he hears a quiet voice say hesitantly. _Don't turn._

"Arthur." _Don't turn._

"Please." _Don't you dare turn around-_

Arthur turns and walks back to Merlin, looking anywhere but at his face. He doesn't want to see the repulsion he's sure he'll find there.

And then there's suddenly a pair of lips on his, and he's not even sure what's happening for a second so he pulls away, just a bit, to see if this is really happening. And it is, it's so achingly real that Arthur is blown away, and then he decides that maybe he can figure out the jumbled mess of thoughts in his head later because right now, there's only one thing that matters and it's standing right there in front of him, waiting for a reaction. So he puts his lips right back where they belong, on Merlin's, and thinks that he would burn his whole garden, even those stupid Stanhopea orchids to the ground if it meant he could stay like this forever.


End file.
